


Three is a charm (Two is not the same)

by cigarettesandalcohol



Series: Their Little Lion [7]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pure Porn, Threesome - M/M/M, sharing the good boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-05-16 00:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)





	1. One, two, three (Not only you and me)

The last thing Gareth had expected that evening was Pochettino's voice in the phone speaker.

_"Er... It's Mr. Southgate?"_

 Gareth's heart skipped a beat because _he knew_ that voice. He just couldn't tell straight away where it was from. 

_Oh, God._

He's heard it before.

"Yes?" he said, getting up. He couldn't remain in the armchair where he'd been calmly seated, reading a book. He just couldn't stay calm during a conversation with someone like - _Poch_. He's never really met him in person and yet, he was still there whenever he and Harry were together - and Gareth often wondered whether Harry thinks about the Spurs boss when they're alone. 

 _"Pochettino here_." His voice sounded confident and awkward at the same time. 

"Yes?" Gareth noticed his other hand clenching involuntarily. "What do you need?"

" _I think we should talk_."

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself down. Pochettino's voice with that well-known heavy accent sounded really, really urgent at that moment. 

Where did he get his phone number anyway? 

Harry - Harry wouldn't - 

 _Oh God_ , Harry would never give him the number.

In the five seconds of heavy silence, Gareth's whole relationship with Kane flashed before his eyes. Has Harry ever mentioned whether Poch knows about them two or not? He sure knew about Harry and Poch, and he'd always thought it was just like that - Harry being with Poch and cheating on him with Gareth but - _was it, really_? How much did Pochettino know?

"Yeah? What is it about?"

" _I know_ ," Mauricio started, and Gareth could feel his heartbeat in his throat, " _about you - and Harry_."

The way he said Harry's name sent shivers down Southgate's spine. Is this what Harry gets to hear all the time when he's with him? The breathy stress on the first syllable, the rough double "r", the typical accent?

Gareth's immediate reaction was a simple defense mechanism. "What are you talking about?"

He could almost hear the disapproving grin from the other side. " _Oh, come on, Gareth_."

What was that in the Argentinian's voice that could make Gareth get goosebumps all over his body? He's never even met him in person, and the way Poch seemingly carelessly called him simply 'Gareth' as if they were some old mates really got under his skin. He would never dare to call him 'Mauricio' just like that.

"I really don't know what you're implying," he tried again, and once again, he failed. 

" _We're both grownups, right_? _We don't need to....hide_."

He forced himself into a fake laugh. "I really...I really don't know what you're talking about."

Pochettino clicked his tongue in disapproval. " _I know you do, Gareth._ "

Southgate took a deep breath, thinking of thousands of possible answers to find his way out of the situation; but Pochettino was faster with his words.

" _Come on now. Don't lie to me. I've seen the messages_."

Gareth's heart skipped a beat. "What messages?"

" _Those you sent to him_." He clicked his tongue again in a derisive manner. " _Who would have guessed there's such a dirty, horny person hiding behind that elegant waistcoat_?"

"Where did you get to see them?"

Poch's voice sounded almost amused to him now. " _No, no, don't worry. It's not Harry's fault. H_ _e's too good, too good for this charade, don't you agree?"_

Gareth swallowed dry and nodded, just then realizing Poch couldn't see his nod. "Yes, he is," he said dryly. 

" _I looked at his phone. I know it's such a wrong thing to do but - I hope you'll understand it. I just knew - I always knew you and him....were a thing. It's so obvious. Come on. Don't try to deny it._ "

"I'm not," he said with the greatest self-denial.

" _I had to be sure...._ "

"Yeah."

" _And your messages were very graphic_  - "

Gareth could feel his cheeks heat up. 

" _I knew immediately that all my assumptions were right_."

"Alright."

 _"I guess you've always known about me, right?_ "

There was no need to try to cover this up. No, no, of course not - he has always known about Harry and Poch. Harry came to him to cheat on Poch, right? Gareth had to smirk - could this hurt Pochettino _at least a little bit_?

"Yes, I did. You two were... _a thing_...when he came on to me."

 _"Oh, so he came on to you_?"

"Kind of?" Somehow, it caused him great pleasure to answer Poch's distasteful questions with an answer that must have been at least a little harmful to him.

" _Good_." Pochettino's voice sounded thoughtful. " _Very good_."

"Well?" he asked a little impatient. "Now you know what you know."

 " _You think that's enough_?"

"Well, I don't know?"

Pochettino's laughter sounded much more sincere this time. " _Oh, Gareth. Believe me. We have so much in common._ "

"Do you think so?"

" _I'm very sure about it. Why don't we sit down and talk a little bit - about the things we share - "_

There was something sinister in the verb "share", Gareth could sense that, and still, the word seemed to make him a bit more excited than he should be. 

Besides, there was only one 'thing', as Poch said, that they actually shared. 

_Harry Edward Kane._

Southgate gulped. 

" _What do you say, Gareth? You think you can spare some time on this_?"

The way Poch kept on calling him simply Gareth made his blood boil, but he didn't seem to have the energy to protest. His whole mind was focused on one thing only - Pochettino called him, talking about Harry Kane. He'd never thought this day would come. And yet, here they were - the three of them, knowing everything about each of them. Harry, Poch, and him. What a strange triangle. And what a strange situation. Harry knows. Poch knows. He knows.

Only Harry doesn't know that they _both_ know.

_Oh._

" _We should talk about Harry, Gareth_ ," Poch continued, and somehow, he sounded like a worried parent. " _He needs us. He needs us both, as it seems_."

"Yeah."

" _You think you can do that for him_?"

 _What?_ What should I do for him? The question was so unclear it almost made Southgate cry out aloud - ' _What_?!' - but he managed to control himself. 

"You mean - meeting you and talking to you?" he asked carefully.

" _Yes_." Mauricio's emphasized 'sssss' had a dangerous feeling to it. " _There's so much to talk about_."

"Probably, yeah."

Well, he was fucked anyway. Pochettino knew about them. And if he was a real bastard, he would probably already have all their messages saved so he could use them for some good old blackmailing. For some reason, Poch seemed to him just like _that kind_ of a guy.

" _It's for the good of our boy_."

Gareth's heart skipped a beat again.


	2. Everybody loves three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way Poch says "Harry Kane" would be very similar to this:  
> https://ve.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_pl8h77CKjU1qh1j8t.mp4

Harry's slow steps were echoing in the hallway as he made his way towards the door number 212. The whole hotel seemed to be empty, or maybe it was just this floor and the fact that it was three in the afternoon; all the posh inhabitants who could afford such stay were probably off to the seaside or probably to some business-making as he imagined; if it wasn't for the lift-boy, he wouldn't have met a single soul on his way up.

 He knocked softly four times and waited politely for the answer. Of course, Gareth had written to him he's waiting for him, but Harry still wouldn't dare to go into the room unannounced. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and smoothed the front of his grey suit. It was too hot for a full suit yet he couldn't care less. Gareth would sure let him take a shower at his place, and if he's in the mood, he could even join him - 

Harry licked his lips and adjusted his sleeves too. He always wanted to look his best for his manager, no matter if it was during matches, trainings, interviews or press conferences. Gareth was a very well-spoken and well-behaved man, a true gentleman with a significant style which some might have called 'old-fashioned' but he, in fact, found it very sexy. He wanted to show his own take on that elegant, stylish look, and he would never wear anything some of the other guys did in the presence of Gareth, _thank you very much, J-Lingz_. He just wasn't _that_ kind of a person. Waistcoats, cufflinks, and ties were what could get under his skin, not hoodies, caps and weird-shaped glasses.

There was no answer from the other side of the door, and Harry let out a muffled disappointed grunt. What is going on? Usually, when they agreed on a meeting Gareth was the one waiting for him to knock just once and then open the door and with arms wide open welcome him in his hotel suite. Not today though. Harry's knocks remained unanswered, and he had to repeat them again and again. Maybe Gareth went to order them some fine champagne and snacks? No, Harry discarded that idea right at the start - such a fine hotel would surely have an inside line of the phone so the visitors could order their meals and drinks even from their rooms. 

What was going on then?

 

* * *

 

_"Well," Gareth took a deep breath and raised his glass. "I think we should drink to Harry."_

_"Yes," Poch agreed hastily, taking his glass in the hand. "To Harry!"_

_Blood was pumping through his veins just with the sound of that name - it was so full of promises and hidden pleasures that he got almost afraid of the impact his imagination could have tonight._

_"Isn't it strange, that we can talk about him so calmly?"_

_Ah, Gareth and his old-school English politeness. Just say it, Gareth, say it as it is. You simply cannot believe that you're sitting face to face with a man who's been fucking your boy just as much as you. I know how you feel. I cannot fully believe it either._

  _"I always knew," Poch smiled just after tasting his wine. "I knew I can't be the only one wanting him."_

_"But wanting and - having - - - Those are two very different things."_

_"Ah, Harry is too good. Too good to be ignored."_

_"I was still surprised when you called."_

_"That's what I intended."_

_"Then, what is your plan?"_

_Pochettino smirked, still holding his wine glass in the hand. He looked like an everlasting picture of mischief and mischievousness. "We both should be able to enjoy Harry's presence, right?"_

_Gareth seemed to have a hard time swallowing such information, he choked and then cleared his throat at least a little bit. "Uh - yeah, sure - in some amount - "_

_"Which amount?" Poch demanded, playing with the glass in his hands._

_"I meant - we both get our time with him. We're both managers, we know how precious the time is - "_

_"Wouldn't it be better to share him then?"_

_Southgate watched him with a significant fear in his eyes, after all, they were still in a public place and yet Poch didn't seem to be bothered by that fact at all, his voice didn't go down nor quiet. "We do - " he reminded him firmly, yet friendly, trying to ease the strange situation with some nervous laughter._

_"No, no, no," Poch protested, using the same tone he would probably use on a little baby. "No, no, no, that's not what I mean."_ _He pouted his lips. "Try harder, Gareth. Why should we all waste our precious time on something that can easily happen with all three of us at once?"_

_"What are you talking about?" Gareth watched him with a surprise in his eyes. "No!" he said firmly. "That's - that's disgusting - he would never agree!"_

_"Oh, what's the bigger problem? Is it really that disgusting?" His face, always so soft and full of smiles, showed a genuine interest in Gareth's answer. "Just think about it. We have nothing to hide from each other. I know what you do with Harry. I'm sure you know what happens when I'm alone with him as well. Now stop playing this dumb naive and brokenhearted lover, Gareth. That doesn't suit you."_

_Gareth straightened his back and blinked in surprise. "Are we insulting each other now?"_

_Pochettino reached across the table and grabbed him by the wrists. Gareth panicked, looking around to check that nobody else in the restaurant was watching them, although they had some level of privacy in their booth, such a gesture could easily drag unwanted attention._

" _No," Poch said, squeezing his wrists assuringly."I just think we're wasting our time beating around the bush."_

_"What do you want from me then?"_

_"An answer. A real, honest answer." He leaned back against the back of his seat and comfortably folded his arms behind his head openly. He looked almost menacing as if he wanted to show his dominance over Gareth who couldn't shake off his feeling of utter shock. "Would you consider doing this?" Pochettino quickly changed his position again, and for the first time that day, he even lowered his voice to the appropriate volume. When he leaned forward, he was almost whispering. "You, me, and Harry Kane."_

_Gareth wanted to make sure he didn't misunderstand the point of the whole conversation - it still seemed way too off to him, unreal and absurd - so he just tilted his head to the side and then raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"_

_"You know what I mean," Pochettino hummed, and his tone started to get a little impatient. "You, me, and Harry. One hotel room."_

_He shook his head mechanically. "I - I don't think he would ever agree - "_

_"I'm not asking him, I'm asking you, Gareth."_

_Gareth shook his head again. He really was shaken by this whole conversation he never thought he'd have. "No."_

_"You never thought," Pochettino said, shifting closer to the table edge, "what is it like when I'm with him? You never wondered how he looks and feels and sounds in my arms? It sure must be different, right? Does he call me the same names as you? Does he whimper, moan and beg the same? Or is he quiet, soft and obedient in everything? Maybe he himself initiates things, who knows? You really never thought of those things, Gareth?"_

_Shivers ran down Gareth's spine when he heard his own name whispered by the lustful voice of the Argentinian. "Yes, I did," he admitted, looking at the surface of the wooden table._

_"How did that make you feel?"_

_He shook his head again, eyes fixated on the wine glass base. He couldn't answer this question._

_Pochettino seemed to be amused by that. "I'm asking just because I think we must be experiencing very similar feelings. Do you know what I feel when I think of you and him? I feel jealousy. You know why? You're both English, you both have this ridiculous charm, you're both these....tall, well-dressed, elegant, quiet men that just fit like a glove - I feel envy. I have this - fire in my veins whenever I see a picture of him and you because you two are just - two of the same kind. And when I see a photo where you watch him playing - I just know you're undressing him with your eyes. I can see that. You have that smug face because you know that after the game he'll come to you, and he'll be just after a shower and he'll smell so good in the perfumed hotel room sheets - No, don't try to deny it! I know how it feels, Gareth. We both know. I also know that Harry closes his eyes and whimpers incoherently when he's overwhelmed with the feelings, he's always on the verge of tears when I finally fuck him after a long time of separation - Does he do the same with you, Gareth?"_

_Gareth nodded slightly, unable to find his voice._

_"I often wonder," Pochettino continued after a short sip of his wine, "what he must look like getting fucked by someone else. Whenever he goes to play for the national team trainings and he's not with me, I wonder how many times it happens, when, where - anything, really. I can't help it. I think of him, and I think of him being with you. And my mind just gets very imaginative, Gareth, you wouldn't believe it."_

_(Yet, he would.)_

_"And it makes me angry, and it makes me mad, and it makes me miss him even more."_

_Gareth finally raised his eyes and looked at him with so much understanding that it surprised Poch._

_"You know what else it does to me?" he asked, and although he just drank some wine, his voice sounded hoarse again._

_Gareth didn't even need to answer that._

_"It makes me horny."_

 

_* * *_

 

 After five more attempts, there was finally an answer to his knocking. 

"Hello, Boss," Harry smiled, feeling relieved as he saw Gareth's face behind the door. 

"Hello."

He hugged Kane firmly, burying his nose in the blonde's hair to enjoy some of the scent which he loved and which was - _so far_ \- only for him. 

"How are you doing, Harry?"

"Fine."

He pulled back, looking at Harry's lips. His immediate reaction would normally be kissing him, and he had to avoid that idea for now because that wouldn't be _fair_. He just rested his hand on the skipper's hip and forced himself to smile. "Come on it."

He knew that Harry was watching him adoringly as they walked towards the main room of the suite, but he didn't have the balls to lock eyes with him now. Instead, he just moved his hand up to Harry's waist and lead him into the room.

Harry gasped and flinched in shock.

One of the beige armchairs in the modern open-spaced room was occupied.

"Ah, Harry Kane," the Argentinian said with a pleased smile. "It's good to see you here."


	3. What we do is innocent, just for fun and nothin' meant

Harry took a step back, petrified by the image in front of him. He's never seen Mauricio and Gareth together, and the image of them both in the same hotel room was menacing, like a bad omen or a subtle warning. Maybe he was in fact sleeping and having a nightmare about his cheatings being exposed? Mauricio and Gareth in the same room - that could only mean one thing. They had to talk before inviting him - they had to _talk_ and _share their experiences_. As ridiculous as it sounded to Harry, there was no other way to explain _why_ would they even be in the same room by now. They had to talk about him - not because he would narccistically wish it to happen, but because there certainly was a lot to talk about. And he didn't mean his football abilities and performances on the pitch.

"No need to be afraid, Harry."

Mauricio's voice sounded the same as always; he was having a good time and it was all fun to him, but Harry's heart was throbbing in his chest. 

"Take a seat, Harry," Gareth said. Hearing those two voices just after each other was surreal; Harry looked back to check of Gareth was _actually_ in the room as well. He'd often thought about him while being with Mauricio - and it worked exactly the same way even the other way around - so hearing his voice in his head didn't necessarily have to mean anything. 

Poch looked amused and happy with himself. "You didn't expect to see us here, did you?"

 Harry could hardly find his voice.

"I didn't expect to see _you_ ," he admitted, hoping it wasn't giving away any secrets. "I thought - " Well, _what_? _I thought I'll be with Gareth alone?_

Pochettino seemed to be in a joyous mood; he laughed and pointed to the other armchair on his right. "Come on, Harry. Sit down. We need to talk." Those short sentences, cut even shorter by Pochettino's sharp accent, would normally sound endearing to Harry. Now it was just as cruel as the cheeky smirk on Poch's round face.

Harry's heart dropped. Is this going to be an interrogation? Are they going to expose him? Are they going to talk about him cheating on them both? Gareth knew about him and Poch, and Poch somehow knew about him and Gareth, or at least he'd thought he knew, right? They knew it all before, why would they be mad now?

Pochettino turned to him with a victorious smile. Harry shifted in his armchair uncomfortably and laid his hands down on his knees, feeling like a little pupil talking to the headmaster. "Do you know why we are here?"

Fuck Pochettino and his accent, his breathy subtle tone. Harry had to shift again and clear his throat and most definitely not look at Mauricio's legs, spread way too much for it to be natural. He looked away, towards the window, but of course, there just _had to be_ Gareth, leaning back against the windowsill with arms crossed over his chest, watching Harry with curiosity. The one thing that Harry noticed straight away was that they were both wearing suits which made them look more like business partners than coaches who were now even not at work.

 "No," Kane answered dreamily, not able to take his eyes off Gareth's parted lips for a while. As soon as he managed to do that, he turned back to Pochettino apologetically. 

There was no sign of the usual jealousy Harry was used to seeing whenever he barely even mentioned the English manager in any conversation, and not only that - Pochettino was smiling as if he was enjoying this moment. Harry would have expected jealousy, bitterness and cold atmosphere in a situation like this - but there was none of that present in the room. In fact, Poch went as far as touching his knee and then leaving his hand casually there. "You're a clever boy, Harry," he said mysteriously, squeezing his knee. Harry looked back at Gareth, almost as if he wanted to complain or at least appear distressed and shocked by those touches. It was all an unconscious decision. He _knew_ that Gareth _knew_ \- but something about letting Pochettino touch him like this in front of Southgate didn's seem right, no matter how many times Gareth assured him he's okay with this happening _when he's not there_.

Gareth was still standing by the window in complete silence, and with his wrinkled forehead, he seemed to be lost in thoughts. Harry would almost let out a desperate cry for help (why for _help_? was he stupid? why would he even try to make it looks like Pochettino has never before done this when Gareth himself was the one who asked, with flushed cheeks and eyes avoiding Harry's - "Was he the one who started it or did you - ?" and then Harry told him everything about Pochettino's office and also the dressing room and the hotel rooms at day and hotel room balconies at night....) Finally, Gareth moved a little, waking from his almost catatonic state, and his eyes met Harry's.

"It's okay, Harry," he said slowly.

Has Gareth invited him in here to confront him about his double cheating? Or triple cheating - God, they could have as well invited Katie, right? Harry bit his lower lip as he felt the stung of embarrassment and shame. He is a cheater, yes, he knows that - he doesn't need an intervention and he definitely doesn't need the two people with whom he's cheating on his fiancée to tell him that.

"Oh, God." He covered his face with his hands, lamely trying to hide from the shame that he felt from the two managers staring at him.

The grip of his knee grew tighter. Pochettino moved to the very edge of his own seat so he could be as close to him as possible.

"What, Harry? You don't like seeing us both?"

 "No, it's not - it's not that - I'm so sorry," he mumbled. Why were they doing this to him? They had nothing to accuse him of right? They both knew what he was like - 

Pochettino hand slid up to his thigh and it made him gasp with surprise - did Pochettino have any respect at all? Gareth has probably invited him in here to clear up their relationship to _him_ , right? And the first thing that Poch does is...this?

With the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Gareth left his spot by the windowsill and his heart started racing - what is he gonna do? The image of Gareth racing across the room to punch Pochettino for his more than inappropriate behavior flashed in his mind, though in his imagination, Gareth was more of a 'challenge to a duel' kind of person. But when he looked up, he could see that Gareth was neither in rush nor seemed ready for a fight. He walked slowly, looking even more thoughtful with each step until he was standing right in front of Harry.

Kane shivered, feeling intimidated and most of all guilty. Alright, he might not punch Pochettino. He might let his anger loose on him. He had so many reasons for that, actually - back in his mind Harry knew Gareth wasn't that kind of a person but the way he stopped in front of him, tall and majestic as always, with the tips of their shoes almost touching, could possibly be the scariest he's ever seen him.

"Harry," Gareth spoke softly, confusing Harry even more. "Look at me."

Pochettino's hand was still on his thigh when Gareth's one slipped under his chin and raised it up, forcing Harry to do as he was told - look up at Gareth.

He gulped. 

Pochettino's hand on his thigh, Southgate's hand under his chin. 

Pochettino - on his right, Southgate - in front of him. 

Pochettino - thigh - Southgate - chin. 

He gulped again, fearing the deep, intense stare from Gareth and not daring to look at Pochettino at all.

 Poch's fingers needily dug deeper into the cloth of his pants as soon as Gareth spoke again.

"You said so many times you belong to me, Harry."

Is this how being cornered and helpless actually feels? "I meant it - I really did - " Harry stuttered.

"You said that to me too, Harry," Poch joined in, moving his hand further onto Harry's crotch and fondling him. "Now what should we think of you? That you're a liar?"

 "I'm not," he protested weakly. Gareth didn't let him move away from his hand.

"So you belong to us both?" Poch asked, palming him through his pants.

"Yes," he exhaled, looking for some kind of comfort in Gareth's eyes. The closeness of the two bodies was torturing him.

That was when it hit him. It was _meant_ to be torturing, right? It was meant to make him go insane at the sight of Pochettino's very tight pants and cute shirt emphasizing his a bit chubby body, and Gareth's ever-so-elegant waistcoat and pants, both in navy blue color, which made him look like a model in a fashion magazine for gentlemen over 40.

"Then we should be both allowed to do this, right?" Pochettino continued, rubbing Harry in a painfully slow way and glancing over at Gareth as if he was waiting for him to react. "I think we all can agree that this is the best we can all get by now," Pochettino teased again.

Southgate's eyes were as calm as ever when he placed his other hand on top of Harry's head and began stroking his hair in a tender, romantic way, as if they were completely alone; as if Poch wasn't working on the rim of Harry's pants.

"We love you both so much, Harry." Gareth's voice wasn't as cheery and alluring as Mauricio's, but the clear honesty and simplicity of it had the same effect on Harry. "Do you even realize that?"

Four hands - four hands touching him - 

He's never even thought about this, not even in his wildest dreams - of course, sometimes, when he was with Poch, he would think of Gareth, and vice versa, but the thought of having them both at the same time has never crossed his mind. It was wrong, dirty and - and so appealing. He still must have looked terrified because the frown didn't disappear from Gareth's face. In fact, the wrinkles only deepened. 

"Harry," Gareth said, holding his head back to make him look up. "I just want to hear you agree with this."

"With what?"

"With all this."

Does he agree with _this_? Does he agree with Southgate's hands on his head, massaging it gently, while Gareth stares at him lovingly? Does he agree with Pochettino working on his cock through his clothing? Does he agree with this happening at the same time?

His lashes fluttered and he moaned from the back of his throat, giving in to the feelings that were taking over his body. 

"Is that a yes, Harry?" Poch teased him again, cupping his erection.

Kane bit back another moan and looked at Gareth, whose eyes were glued to him. "Yes," he exhaled desperately, answering Poch's question. "Yes, please - "

"You're starting early with this begging, Harry," Pochettino laughed, gently pressing the heel of his palm against the bulge in Harry's pants. "Save something for later, pretty please - I wanna hear you - "

"Please - " Harry said again, looking for some kind of support in Gareth's face. Gareth sure wasn't going to let Pochettino humiliate him like this, right?

"Get up, Harry."

Southgate's voice was dry and uncompromising. No question, no doubt. And without waiting for his reaction, he pulled him up from the armchair, out of Pochettino's touch, right into his own embrace. 

"Love you," he grunted, harshly grabbing Harry by his neck to pull him into a kiss, a desperately passionate one, tasting him, biting and suckling on his lip. Harry could feel the boss' erection rubbing against his thigh and he exhaled, too overwhelmed by the pleasure of being thrown from one man's hands straight into other's. Gareth mumbled something in between the kisses, while Harry just helplessly gasped for air. "Good boy," Gareth panted, kissing his cheek once, twice, three times and then moving his lips right next to Harry's ear. "I want you so much, Harry." The goosebumps spread all over Harry's body.

When he turned his head to check Mauricio, he saw the Argentinian comfortably sprawled in the armchair, rubbing his own hard-on, watching them hungrily. No jealousy, no intention of stopping them - just pure passion for their own kind of passion, as if he wanted to say 'Go on, I'm enjoying this'.

The shivers in Harry's body doubled.


	4. Caught in between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if it even makes sense. It's 5,707 words of smut, porn, and also the first threesome I have ever written, and I believe there are thousands of logical and grammatical errors. Though, if possible, enjoy! :)

Pochettino's eyes were piercing through him.

"Come on, Harry," he exhaled, massaging his own semi-hard cock through his pants. "Show me how much you love Gareth."

"It's okay," Gareth's voice came from the other side, just by his right ear, light and soft as the air itself. "Just enjoy this, Harry."

Kane wasn't sure whether he was supposed to enjoy being touched and caressed by his national team's manager while Tottenham manager watches them at it - but Gareth's uncompromising hand was on his belt and there was no room for complaints now. 

"Okay?" Gareth's purring voice asked, and then, he felt the manager's lips on the side of his neck, right on the spot where his pulse could be felt. 

"Yeah," he exhaled. He let Gareth explore his mouth with the same passion as he always did, whenever they were alone; but with the corner of his eye, he was constantly checking Pochettino who seemed to be getting way too comfortable. Harry never expected this to be so erotic, and when he managed to lock eyes with Poch, while still making out with Gareth, a tiny part of him felt guilty - while a sharp feeling of lust spread all over his body. Yes, he loved being watched by Mauricio's eyes that usually seemed to happy and soft but now were darkened with passion.

What seemed even more surprising was that Pochettino loved it, being the _third one_ , the watching, passive one so far. He watched the two lovers in front of him with a concentrated face, mostly quiet, as if he was watching a good porn movie. As soon as Gareth's slender fingers started unbuttoning Harry's shirt, he muttered approvingly. 

"Yeah, Gareth - " he encouraged him, working on his own pants button. "Keep going."

It seemed unreal to Harry; Poch was acting as an echo to his own words; had he not said those words, he himself would, and he looked into Southgate's eyes with a bit of panic. 

"It's good, Harry," Gareth soothed him, kissing the tip of his nose in his usual sweet gesture of affection. "Relax."

There was nothing he would love more than to relax - but his mind was just too busy, too overwhelmed and too exhausted, he needed more soothing words in Gareth's calming voice - but then again, for every two or three of Gareth's supportive, loving words, one of Poch's hissed passionate moans was enough to bring him back to the reality of being involved in such a messed up situation.

Southgate's touches were agonizingly slow and tender; Harry's body was on fire by now and every time Gareth just casually brushed against him, he bit his lip and let out a muffled moan, hoping Gareth will understand what it does to him. Pochettino seemed to be annoyed by the slow pace as well - he got up from the armchair and moved closed to them, hand still on his bulging pants. "Let's get it on, Harry," he purred, coming to him from behind. Every step Harry heard made him shiver, he could sense Poch's presence, so close, that he could actually feel his body heat.

"I bet you're so hard now," Mauricio mumbled, and without prolonging the maliciously torturing moment, he wrapped his free hand around his player's waist and pressed against his back, pushing his own erection against Harry's butt. "You want it, huh?"

Harry's heart was pounding so hard it actually made his vision a bit shaky; he was trapped between two bodies, two body heats, two managers who were ready to share him evenly, and he was lost for words. His capability of putting emotions into words was in ruins, especially when he felt Poch's cock through the clothes, and in the same moment, Gareth's hand cupped his own cock through the suit and started massaging it gently; the only sound Harry managed to get out of himself was a desperate, horny and breathy ' _Aaaaargh_ \- ' which ended in a shriek of surprise when Pochettino sunk his teeth on the skin of Harry's neck. 

"Beautiful," Mauricio mumbled, pressing his tongue on the bitten spot, while Gareth was staring deep into Harry's half-closed eyes with a quiet, hushing ' _Ssssh_ '.

He was falling apart in their hands completely. It didn't matter anymore what day it was, or how long he's been in that room yet - his both managers were all over him, and the kissing, nibbling and touching of twice as many lips and hands as usual, got so intense he feared for his sanity. Was this just a dream? Was he gonna wake up in his bed, with a morning erection, desperately trying to hide it from Kate just to release the tension in the bathroom later?

"Good?" Gareth's voice was as soothing as ever. Harry nodded, unable to form his feelings into words, and Gareth's lips curled up in a smile. "Okay." He gave Harry a little pack and while still maintaining the eye-contact (which was torturing due to the fact that Mauricio was nibbling the back of Harry's neck the whole time), and then unbuttoned his pants - _at last_. He still didn't break the eye-contact as he sank down to his knees and pulled Harry's pants down. He looked so soft, devoted and - gentle? Harry couldn't find the right word. All he knew was that his national team's manager was kneeling in front of him, looking up sheepishly and stroking his legs. "You're such a good boy, Harry." Harry felt how his cock twitched. God, Gareth knew what effect such words had on him - he was always the master of talking to him lovingly. There was rarely anything lustful and possessive in Gareth's words, it was all praise and gentle love, and it still made Harry bite back moans.

Southgate, in his significantly perfect waistcoat and tie, was indeed kneeling in front of him, pulling down his boxers as well. "Good boy," he repeated again and he could immediately see the reaction of Harry's body. It made him smirk - and he wasn't the type to _smirk_ very often. Kane had a persistent desire to just ran his fingers through Garteh's hair and enjoy the soft feeling of it. Could he do that? Gareth was still his manager, and some hidden voice in Harry's head was telling him to not do that - but Garth's smirk, turning into a smile, changed his mind. He dared to do that - after all, Gareth has done this to him so many times he couldn't even count it. He softly entangled his fingers in Gareth's hair and by holding his head like that, he made him look up. Why was it so erotic to have his manager kneel in front of him, fully clothed, in his best suit? 

"You deserve the best, Harry."

Gareth winked at him - oh God, Gareth really winked at him at that moment! - and Harry couldn't get rid of his boxers fast enough. He just craved the touch, he needed those lips, he couldn't survive without it now - 

Just when he thought he might really go crazy from Gareth's look, he felt Pochettino's palm on his now bare butt. "Look at you, Harry," the Argentinian purred behind him. "You look so ready for some good time, eh?"

He was lost. Completely, inevitably lost between their touches. He gasped when Gareth took him in his mouth, the whole length at once, it made him cry with pleasure and thrust his hips forwards, closer to the warm heat, closer to Gareth's luscious lips, closer to the touch - and at the same time, Poch behind him grunted. He could heart some wet and sloppy sounds and then, without a warning, Poch's hand was spreading his asscheeks apart. "Be a good boy, as Gareth said," Pochettino mumbled, pushing his finger against Harry's entrance. "Relax a bit, Harry - "

He couldn't - he couldn't - he couldn't - he really couldn't, _for the love of God_ \- _for the sake of his own life_ \- he couldn't _relax_ at that moment. Gareth was sucking him off with great vigor and he wanted to focus on that feeling, but at the same time, Pochettino's fingers were forcing themselves inside him from behind, and he couldn't take those two feelings at once, he wasn't used to so much happening at once. 

" _Daddy_ \- " he moaned, remembering only the word but not for whom this addressing was meant. 

"Let me in, Harry," Pochettino moaned against his neck. " _Let me in_."

 "Yes - "

"Good boy. I'm gonna get _something_ \- "

He didn't need to explain _what he meant._ Harry knew it the moment Mauricio came back, and his now slick and gooey fingers tried to do the same once again. 

"Good boy," Poch repeated, as he finally got to do what he wanted to. "Good boy." His single finger entered Harry's body, slowly and steadily, with Harry staying still for a moment, breathing heavily.

"Daddy - "

"Yeah, you're such a good boy."

"I'm - _aaaaaarggggh_ \- "

 _Fuck_ , Poch was getting well close to his most sensitive spot, and it wasn't good - _too_ _early_. He surely won't make it - _if Poch keeps going on_. 

Harry moaned and grabbed the nearest thing possible - Gareth's shoulders. The gaffer looked up at him, surprise undeniably written in his eyes. He wasn't used to Harry being this straightforward - but then again, he wasn't used to Harry being fingered by Poch.

 "Feels good, Harry boy?"

Poch kisses his butt cheeks, one after the other, gently at first, but it immediately turns into biting; his teeth sink into the flesh and Harry can only bite back the moan that rises from the back of his throat. He wants to squeeze Gareth's shoulder with his all might but something is stopping him from doing so - it's actually Gareth's shirt and waistcoat, and his black trousers, all still so perfect, empowering and neat, and Harry knows this man is his boss, he looks like that and he just shows him that - and Harry can't hold onto him in a way he would love - no - Gareth is still the Boss, dressed like this.

He doesn't know where to move sooner - he needs Poch's exploring touches, trying to find the perfect angle and pace, and at the same time, he so desperately wanted to feel the warmth of Gareth's mouth, to know just how far he can go with Gareth still staring up in his eyes lovingly - 

"Harry," Pochettino puffed, pressing his lips practically on Harry's ear. "Listen to me." His breath felt so hot, coming in short rasps, that it tickled and at the same time those shivers were spreading all over Harry's body. Pochettino couldn't control the lustful tone. "Harry... I'm gonna breed you tonight - I'm gonna breed you, real and raw, until your legs are shaking and the cum leaks out of your used, wrecked hole - "

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and without looking, he grabbed Gareth's shoulder, digging his fingers into the fine material of the dark waistcoat as he tried to push Southgate away - it was all too much, God, Pochettino's voice and Gareth's mouth combined - 

 "Stop," he pleaded with a dry, broken voice. "Stop, please - "

Gareth pulled away immediately and Harry exhaled, grateful for at least some reasonability in this madness, but there was no rest for the striker as Pochettino almost immediately wrapped his hand, still slick with the used lube, around his cock from behind. As his wrist twisted and started to pump him, he rubbed himself against Harry's butt.

Harry looked down in shock. Gareth was kneeling in front of him, and his face, elegant, pale and serious as usual, was just inches away from Pochettino's aggressively moving hand.

He moaned and threw his head back, feeling lightheaded and weak in the knees. His body was not _his_ anymore - he became a complete ragdoll in the Argentinian's hands; and now, it was Southgate just watching them, waiting for his share of fun. Harry was almost there, with every Poch's move he was closer and closer, and in the sweet expectation of release, he thrust his hips forward to meet Poch's hand, once, twice, before he could feel the familiar tightening and spasming and he arched his back - 

And Pochettino's hand disappeared, there was no friction at all, just the air and that was not enough; Harry howled in frustration and opened up his eyes, just to realize they were full of tears. What has Pochettino done to him? He thrust his hips into the air again but it gave him nothing, nothing except the painful realization that this was how Poch decided to tease him. "Please," he choked on the tears. He couldn't move his own hands, and his knees were almost failing him, he needed some support, he needed something stable and firm to help him stay on his feet because he couldn't do this on his own. He was practically leaning back on the Spurs' manager.

When Gareth covered his thighs with light, soft kisses, his cock twitched again - but it was not enough for a release, and he let out another broken groan.

"Come on, Harry," Pochettino mumbled, wrapping his both hands around his body. "Let's get you to bed."

He stumbled, being dragged by Poch's and Gareth's now much stronger hands towards the king-size bed, and the whole world was spinning with him; he felt waves of warmth and cold shivers roll all over his body as if he was having hot flashes. Poch pushed him onto the bed, on his back, and after a while of hasted undressing, he joined him, stroking his cheek. "Ready for more, baby?"

He was, and he would scream it out on top of his lungs normally, but there was no way he could say anything at all now. The bed creaked under the weight of the third person getting in it, and at that moment, Gareth took his chin and made him tilt his head back. He was still wearing his shirt and waistcoat, but he was already naked from the waist down, pretty much like Harry himself; he must have peeled off his pants and underwear as Poch was getting him onto the bed. As soon as he made sure Harry's eyes were fixed on him, he got rid of those last two pieces of clothes in the speed of light; and both the vest and the shirt ended up somewhere on the floor. 

"Are you gonna fuck him, Gareth?"

Harry moaned and arched his back just from hearing Poch's voice; it seemed surreal how Poch was talking about him while he was lying on the bed right in front of him.

"Are you gonna spread that ass of his and fuck him nicely? Look at him, how greedy he is, and how much he wants it." With these words, Poch wrapped his hand around Harry's erection once again, making Harry's whole body vibrate with pleasure again. It was so close again - but Mauricio just rubbed his thumb over the reddish head of Harry's cock lazily, as if without interest, and in the moment that Harry's body got tense, the hand disappeared again, leaving Harry on the verge of tears.

"Look at him, Gareth," Poch went on, making Harry dizzy with the lust-filled tone. "How how hard he is - our boy - our little lion - "

Harry hid his face into the crook of his left arm to hide his tears, his flushed cheeks - to hide himself; as a child who doesn't understand that _not seeing_ doesn't equal _not being seen._

He heard some more shifting, the bed creaking, opening of a bottle of lube, and then, someone lifted his legs and spread them apart. "Harry - " It was once again Gareth's melodic, soothing voice.  "Harry - " Gareth leaned down and removed his arm from his face, smiling assuringly when their eyes met. "You're absolutely stunning today," he whispered before kissing him deeply. His hands were engaged somewhere else though; Harry could feel them adjusting his feet just by Gareth's hips and spreading him open. "I wanna fuck you like this, okay?" It was hard to say anything against it when Gareth's hand was already at his cock. Harry shifted his eyes to see where did Poch move to because now, he couldn't see him. 

"I'm right here, Harry boy," a voice behind him said. Was he really so easy to read? Or was Pochettino using some insane mind games on him? "Come on, Gareth. Fuck him good." 

Harry heard a zipper noise and didn't even get enough time to wonder what it meant because, in two seconds, a thick, hard dick was shoved right in front of his face. The familiar, musky scent hit him straight away and his dizziness just worsened. He gulped, trying to get his head in the position to actually see Pochettino's eyes from this down. "Open your pretty mouth, Harry, come on - Show me what a good boy you are. I'm not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that - Fuck, Harry."

" _Daddy_ \- " Harry gasped. He wasn't given more time; once his mouth was open, Pochettino pushed his cock in between those lips with a sigh.

" _Good boy_."

He had to collect all his will and strength to avoid any accident when Gareth, kneeling between his legs, pressed the tip of his slick cock against his entrance; he wanted to clench his teeth but _couldn't_ so instead, he just grabbed the cushions and hoped he won't tear them apart.

"Move slow, Gareth, let him - let him suffer a little - "

Pochettino definitely was _not_ moving slowly, he started ramming inside Harry's mouth from this unusual angle as if he's never done it before. Tears were burning in Harry's eyes, and he couldn't decide whether he should keep them open or squeezed shut - but after all, he didn't want to miss a single moment of this show. 

"Come on, Gareth," Poch moaned, giving more instructions. "Now you can - slowly - slide in - - - Is this how you always do it? Or do you let him ride you, huh? Do you let him be the top sometimes? Oh no, I'm sure you love his greedy hungry ass too much, right? Yeah, just fuck him right - come here - "

The most surreal of all things that have ever crossed Harry's mind was becoming real in front of his eyes - Mauricio pulled Gareth closer by his neck and kissed him, openly, right over _their little lion_ , as he said, and Harry groaned, jerking his hips in response, because, fuck, it was so hot to watch these two perfect mature men get it on, and two, his body needed more attention from them.

With an eloquent look, Gareth licked the inside of his palm and wrapped his hand around the base of Harry's cock. Harry inhaled sharply with his nose, buried in Pochettino's groin. Poch smelled so good, so familiar, so intoxicating; he smelled like a man, THE man, the real man, the one who had control over him, the one who owned him; as if he'd awaken some animal instincts in Harry.

Both managers were panting heavily, though they didn't dare to actually moan and Harry tried his best to not be the one who gives up his attempts to be quiet first. But when he felt them both all inside him, filling him up at once, the feeling of torture mixed with pleasure washed over him and he groaned deeply around Poch's cock.

"Fuck, Harry," Pochettino gasped, grabbing him by the hair and holding him in place. "Finally getting what you want, right? You always need more, one dick is not enough, huh?"

Tears were streaming down Harry's cheeks by now and he felt like gagging, though he always managed to control it, and his own heartbeat was deafening him. He hardly even noticed Poch's hands roaming across his chest, pinching his nipples and then coming back to his head, holding it, massaging his jaws as if to make him open his mouth more - he noticed Harry's wet cheeks and rubbed small circles there, whimpering surprisingly soft "Such a good boy, Harry, you're such a sweet little boy - ", which didn't suit the moment at all, but he didn't care.

Gareth got a bit rougher by now, he held Harry's knees apart but now, his right hand started jerking Harry's cock again, and Harry immediately responded, lifted his butt and jerked his hips forward to meet the touch, because his body was in agony, and he desperately needed the release. He wanted to moan, he wanted to howl and plead, beg Gareth to finally let him come, but he couldn't say a word with Mauricio gagging him, so all his attempts to speak were reduced to quiet sobs and groans.

"Harry," he heard Gareth's voice, coming from seemingly afar. "Harry - yes, Harry - _oh God_ \- " His palm was pumping up and down Harry's length in the same pace as his hips were thrusting inside his favorite boy, he didn't hold back anymore. "Come with me, Harry - come - just come for me - "

With the most pitiful groan, Harry squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tightening spasms, shivers at the ends of his fingers and toes and in a moment, there was a warm, wet feeling on his lower abdomen, pooling there, and just then he also realized Gareth was not moving anymore, just his fingers were rhythmically digging into the flesh of his thighs and he was muttering something under his breath before he finally exhaled ' _Fuck_ ' and pulled out.

Pochettino also stopped, leaving Harry hanging on with an open mouth. "It's such a pity," he said, pulling Harry's hair a little, "that we can't get you pregnant. I would just fuck you and give you so many babies, Harry - " 

He was being ridiculous, but it was the last thing Harry would mind right now. He huffed and moaned something unintelligible. When Poch finally pulled out of his mouth, his cock shiny and gooey with the generous amount of saliva and precome, Harry gasped for air. He was a mess, quite literally, and he felt the wetness all over his face but also between his legs and leaking out of him, his shirt was pretty much ready to be thrown away. He took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down when he heard more shuffling and creaking of the bed. 

"Now you look way hotter than on the pitch - " he heard Poch say, and he subconsciously knew he wasn't talking to him. When he turned his head, he saw managers as they stopped by the bed, probably to switch their places ( _no, it wasn't over,_ Harry's mind panicked, _they were just switching positions_ ), and Mauricio wrapped his hand around Gareth's waist for a moment and pulled him in for a quick kiss, as if this all was okay, just some show of managers' sympathy for each other. "Gonna think about you like this the next time you wear that absurd waistcoat."

Kane couldn't look away, the sight of these two men was magnetic for his eyes; especially Pochettino's unapologetic hand now squeezing Gareth's butt. The Argentinian really was the boss of this whole situation, and Harry was used to being dominated by him, but never in his life he had thought he'd see Gareth being treated the same way. His impression proved to be wrong though in the next moment. Gareth, unusually aggressively, grabbed Pochettino by the neck and licked his lips, getting closer to his ear. "Tell me, Mauricio," he said, and his voice sounded just as disheveled as he himself looked. "Who got further in the World Cup? England - or Argentina?"

Poch's eyes didn't show half as much confidence as moments ago.

"And who got to be there with Harry Kane, and who was sitting back at home, writing him love messages? Huh?"

 Pochettino smirked. "Good, Gareth. You get it."

"I fucked him in his bed," Gareth continued. His voice sounded dangerous in this low tone. "And his phone would always beep. You were writing to him - and he was moaning my name, holding onto the headboard of the bed - then his phone beeped again - when he arched his back and came all over my hand - "

"Very good, Gareth."

 A conversation that would normally end in a fight ended in a passionate kiss; a kiss that made Harry's cock twitch, although he felt completely spent and exhausted already.

"I'm gonna fuck your boy, Gareth," Pochettino spoke just as their lips parted. "Like I always did. You can take him all you want, but for every one of your dirty touches, there are hundreds of mine - " Kane moaned, feeling a strange combination of shame and arousal from the way Pochettino spoke about him. "Right, Harry boy?"

Harry could hardly find his voice, and even though he wanted to say 'yes', only a protracted howl made it out.

"Look at him, Gareth - look at the mess he is, look how you wrecked him - and he still needs more and more and more - " Poch finally got on the bed again and touched Harry's spread legs. "Help me with that Gareth - get closer to him and kiss him, come on - show him you care because - " He ran his hands up Harry's legs. "Because I'm gonna be the one fucking him now." He lifted Harry's left leg and placed it over his shoulder. Harry moaned at the pain - his whole body felt sore and he just wanted to lie for a while and rest, but Pochettino had other plans for him. He cupped Harry's balls and started massaging it, shamelessly enjoying Harry's whimpers because it was _too much_ now, at this moment, and he didn't feel ready for a second round. "I wanna fuck him - while you're sitting next to him, telling him what a nice, good boy he is - I want you to kiss him and feel how his whole body trembles when I thrust inside him, I want you to hold his hand and tell him he's a strong, brave boy, while I breed him - "

Harry didn't listen anymore. Pochettino's voice was driving him insane, and the sound of blood pumping in his ears was still louder and louder anyway. 

Mauricio let his fingers explore the used, puffy hole, enjoying every small whimper and moan that Harry let out in the process. "So wet and ready for me... So open, Harry... How could I resist?"

In the same moment, Harry felt Garet's breath on his still wet cheek, and his English boss grasped his hand. "I'm here, Harry."

So - was Poch really gonna get his way, as usual? Was Gareth gonna stay like this, next to him, as Poch fucks him? Gareth's eyes were shiny, he looked fascinated by something - and then it hit him; Southgate was fascinated by him and his pleasure and pain. They've experienced this together, but not like this, not separately. They were always both involved - and now, Gareth got to watch Harry getting fucked without his own investment, yet still from this close - and yes, the thought of it made his heart skip a beat.

"I won't last long, Harry," Poch warns him. It's so easy to get inside, Harry is relaxed and doesn't flinch a bit, his body is ready, at least seemingly. He still clenches his teeth, but then there's Gareth - sweet, loving Gareth, who rubs his cheek and then takes his whole face in his hands and kisses him. "How does it feel?" he mumbles as their lips part, and Harry is not sure what exactly he means by that. The salty, wet, sloppy kiss they just shared? Or Pochettino's cock, sliding all the way inside him in one thrust? He looks Gareth in the eyes as Pochettino adjusts his legs to get even deeper inside him - he searches for honesty in them, he wants to be sure Gareth is indeed okay with this. Southgate looks as much in love as always, and Harry decides to trust him, especially when Gareth entwists their fingers. "I've got you, Harry," he whispers assuringly. "I've got you."

Pochettino's hands were much rougher; he grabbed Harry's poor, red, abused cock in his hand again and started to pump it, not minding Kane's body protesting - he just held his legs firmly and didn't let him wriggle too much - well, and Gareth was taking care of his hands. There was no way Harry could fight them off, even if he actually wanted to - his body wasn't listening to him anyway. All he had left were his whimpers and a bit of squirming under Poch's touches.

"God, Harry, you're really trying to milk me dry with that ass - "

Pochettino's hand movements got faster and Harry threw his head back and let out a very loud, painful moan, his body couldn't take this much torture - but Gareth was quick to cover his mouth.

" _Ssssh, Harry - It's alrigh_ t - "

His eyes betrayed him, Harry could see the glow of excitement in them and he knew it immediately - Gareth is more than enjoying this. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Gareth, feeling the tears in his eyes again, as if he wanted to ask 'Why? Why are you enjoying this?' - but all the words and sounds died off against the manager's firm palm. "You're so brave, Harry, a real lion, our little lion cub - We love you so, so much, Harry, it's all just for you - " He was talking just like Pochettino by now.

And the real Pochettino was not talking at all - he was only grunting, muttering something in Spanish. Harry bit his lip to prevent himself from biting Gareth's hand.

Surely he can't come now again, right? His body was aching, he could barely even breathe and now it was even harder with Gareth's hand covering his mouth but it didn't stop Pochettino from mercilessly jerking him off.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, Harry - leave you like that - want you to have it all inside, the whole day - " Poch was wheezing, not getting enough air in his lungs as well. He rubbed his slimy thumb over the tip of Harry's cock a few times, making Harry arch his back in the most blissful spasms. "Gonna fill you with my cum, baby boy - you're so - so fucking - gorgeous - "

He froze for a moment, panting, gasping for more air, pressing his pelvis against Harry to the point it became painful, and his right hand didn't stop moving even then; Harry looked at him, terrified, because he knew his body can't take this, but Poch was completely lost in his orgasm, with head thrown back and his mouth hanging open, that he probably didn't even realize his hand was still moving up and down Harry's bursting cock.

Harry desperately tried to get some more air but was unsuccessful with Gareth still holding him - his eyes opened wide, pleading silently for a release, for freedom, for a moment of sanity in this madness but nobody listened to him, not even his hands when he wanted to lift them up, not even his legs that were literally shaking, he could see it but not feel anymore, it was almost like watching somebody else's body in this state and he was falling, inevitably and freely, his head fell back on the messy cushions and his eyes rolled back - he felt warmth spread all over his body and then - then there was _nothing._

Somebody was smacking his face lightly and it woke him up, his eyes darted around in confusion and the first thing he could see was Gareth's beard and his nose, right over his face, and then also Gareth's eyes and it all started to make sense, yes, Gareth was here with him, looking absolutely terrified.

"Oh God, Harry," he heard his voice, a bit distorted. "You scared us." He started rubbing Harry's forehead, getting some of the messy hair off it. "Are you alright?"

 Harry turned his head to the side and could see Poch coming to the bed, completely naked, with his cock hanging down almost comically between his legs. He was all sweaty and red in his face as he got onto the bed next to Harry, and he was holding some soaking wet piece of cloth in his hand. "You passed out," he said with a strangely pleased tone. "You came so hard you passed out."

Harry couldn't form any answer, he just grunted with exhaustion and tried to remember how exactly he felt before he fainted. It was the definition of too much - the building orgasm was too much for his body to take, it was too big, it couldn't fit in his body, not when he was conscious - 

"You were so brave," Gareth continued, running his fingers through the blond hair. "And we're gonna take care of you now."

Pochettino pressed the cloth he was holding onto Harry's belly; it was soaked in lukewarm water and felt very nice, especially when Poch moved it lower, to wipe Harry's spent cock with it - and there was not a sign of aggression nor lust in this action now. He was just taking care of him like he always did when his needy and passionate nature was satisfied.

Harry moaned, closing his eyes. He was more than willing to let the two caress him and stroke his hair and lay small pecks of love on his sweaty pale skin.

He closed his eyes, therefore he couldn't see the smirk and wink exchanged between Poch and Gareth.


End file.
